


Mr. Movie Guy

by sheafrotherdon



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-05
Updated: 2011-04-05
Packaged: 2017-10-17 15:43:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 859
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/178406
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sheafrotherdon/pseuds/sheafrotherdon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Crack, crack, craaaaack, where I kick the fourth wall a little, and Steve is confused, as usual.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mr. Movie Guy

The doctor's office is pretty pleasant – soothing tones of green and blue, a couple of plants, an open-plan reception desk – and of all the places Danny's been in recent months because Steve's a risk-taking maniac, this is one of the best. "I like this," he says, waving a hand. "It's peaceful."

Steve grimaces at him, and picks up a magazine as if it might be a land mine. "Waste of time," he says, low, like someone might be listening in on their conversation. There's no one else in the room.

"Look," Danny says, shifting in his chair a little and summoning up all the reasonableness he can. "I know you think stitches are something you just yank out with your teeth, but that was a nasty fucking gash, okay? Humor me. Let the doctor make sure it healed right."

"Whatever," Steve sniffs, flipping the pages. "Had worse."

"I understand this," Danny agrees. "While up a mountain in Nepal – a guess, a guess!" Danny says when Steve looks at him like he's unearthed a state secret that means he'll have to die, "then I can understand you doing a little darn and weave yourself, okay, binding your flesh together with yak guts, whatever it is you did, plucking it out with a pair of blacksmith's tongs, field medicine magic, okay, I'm with you, but here – " he spreads his hands " – we have doctor's offices and so help me, Steven, you will be nice to the nurse and say please and thank you to the doctor and then, only then, will I consider buying you beer."

Steve pouts and keeps flipping through his magazine, but he shuts up, and Danny considers this a win for the thirty-six seconds it lasts. "Hey Danno," Steve says, pausing with the magazine spread open. "This guy looks like me."

Danny tilts his head, eyes an advertisement for some movie or another. "Huh," he offers.

Steve frowns, his brow furrowing. "He's in a movie with Jennifer Lopez."

"Nice tushie," Danny says.

Steve looks up. "You think this guy has a nice ass?"

"I think Jennifer Lopez has a nice ass," Danny says. "This guy, his ass I can't see so much, no judgment, it might be spectacular, but that, my friend, is his front. I need an ass shot if I'm to evaluate the evidence."

"But," Steve says, still frowning. "You're not . . . averse to finding his ass attractive?"

Danny peers at Steve who really, truly, is a confounding man. "I'm a very secure person, Steven. I can appreciate some nice male ass."

Steve looks back at the magazine. "Huh."

"You, for example – and I hesitate to say this, lest it swell your head, but okay, here I go – you have a nice ass. It has a pleasing shape, seems tight, I like that."

Steve grins at him. "Thanks, man."

" _I_ ," Danny continues, "am possessed of a great ass. Not to put you down or anything, but my ass? It is a fine, fine ass. One of the best asses you will ever be close to."

Steve looks suddenly shifty. "Uh." He coughs.

Danny makes with his innocent face. "You got something to say?"

"No, no, I just . . ." Steve scratches the back of his neck. "I've seen your ass."

"And?"

"And – I . . . appreciate it," Steve manages. "It's . . . I've maybe . . . you know."

Danny, fluent in Steve-speak by now, has an inkling. "You're saying you would like to touch my ass."

Steve flushes spectacularly. "Shhhh," he hisses.

"No, really, if you'd like to touch my ass, there's no shame in it. My ass is very touchable. Firm, even. I would not object to my ass being touched by someone such as yourself."

Steve smiles just a little, still looking at his magazine. "Yeah?"

"Maybe after the doctor's taken a look at your arm. Maybe after that."

"Yeah?" Steve's grin's getting wider.

"And maybe we could have a discussion about human communication and how to tell someone you _like them_ , later, after the ass touching, which I hope will be reciprocal, because there are things I would like to do to your ass that – "

The door to the consulting room swings open. "Commander McGarrett?" says the nurse.

Steve puts down his magazine and wipes his palms on his pants. "I – here. Me." He stands up, looking nervous as hell, and Danny takes pity on him – pity on his stupid, doctor-hating brain.

"Hey, you," he says, before Steve can get further. "C'mere." He beckons him in.

Steve leans down obligingly.

"Your ass. Things I would do. With my _tongue_ ," Danny whispers, and Steve jerks upright, cheeks flaming, swallows hard, and Danny has to bite back laughter as Steve all but shakes a fist at him.

"Shut up," Steve says, pointing a finger. "Shut up, and wait here, and you better – make good. With the . . ." And he ducks his head - turned on or embarrassed, it's hard to say, potentially both - and walks over to the nurse, follows her through the door.

Danny smiles to himself. "Thank you, Mr. Random Jennifer Lopez Movie Guy," he murmurs, and hey, he's got time, he'll use it productively; he sits and plots moves, makes a few plans.


End file.
